


A New Suit

by spitecentral



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: ADHD Character, ADHD Howl Pendragon, Autistic Character, Autistic Howl Pendragon, Drabble, Gen, Stimming, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitecentral/pseuds/spitecentral
Summary: Howl is having sensory issues with his clothes, and Sophie (more-or-less unwittingly) helps. Book verse.





	A New Suit

**Author's Note:**

> In the process of moving some of my smaller/simpler fics to AO3. Quality may vary.
> 
> Howls is intended to be comorbid autistic/ADHD in this one, but the autism definitely comes through more, so uh, sorry?

It was one of those days where boredom reigned and everything seemed to be too little and too much at the same time. His clothes itched, and he wondered if it would be worth Sophie’s complaining to magic them into non-itchy clothes. Only, he knew that at the moment, there was no clothing that wouldn’t itch, no clothing that would sit right and feel comfortable against his skin, and so he tried his best to ignore it, drumming his fingers and lazily conjuring up miniature fireworks over his head.

As it turns out, he would have done well to be worried about the fireworks causing Sophie’s ire more than the chance of clothing.

“What in God's name are you doing in here?” she grumbled as she opened the door. “I can hear your explosions all the way down in the kitchen.”

“Miss Hatter, I’m afraid I’m dying of boredom,” he replied, making a blue star burst so loudly that Sophie jumped. “And if the boredom doesn’t do me in, my clothes will surely do it instead.” He picked up one of his coattails. “It itches to no end, and nothing I do will help.”

“Can’t you just magic yourself a new pair?” she asked, unimpressed. 

“Alas!” he cried, throwing one arm over his face. “No fabric I wear will be at all different. It’s the texture of the fabric, I’m afraid. Cotton doesn’t sit right on my skin.”

“What about wool? Or satin, even?”

“Wool is even worse, and the way satin slides against my skin -” he broke himself off and shuddered. 

Sophie crossed her arms. “Surely there must be something you can handle? Your skin can’t possibly be _that_ sensitive?”

For a moment, Howl considered explaining the concepts of autism, ADHD, and sensory difficulties to her. Then his sleeves rubbed against his shoulders wrong, and he decided that he really wasn’t up for that today.

“No, there is nothing. Simply the act of wearing clothes at all is torture.” He sighed, and let a bright yellow bee zoom through the room, following it with his eyes. 

He barely heard Sophie say “Well, don’t go around running naked, and keep the noise down or you won’t get any supper.” Then, he heard the sound of a door slamming shut. 

“Cruel,” he muttered under his breath, then sat back and tried to focus on the little glowing blue flies.

A week later, Sophie threw a suit at his face. “Since you insist on being dramatic,” she added, then grabbed a broom and headed off to sweep.  
Blinking, Howl held the suit up to his face, inspecting its integrate diamond pattern and soft, pink fabric. He let it slide through his fingers. It felt almost… good?

Quickly, he changed clothes, and immediately, he realized that Sophie had weaved magic into the it. The fabric didn’t feel like cotton, or satin, or wool, or anything else he’d ever worn; it was feather light, floating instead of weighing him down, and a brush with the sleeves gave him a nice, pleasant, tingling sensation. He did an experimental twirl, and to his surprise, he noticed the coattails leaving behind a glittering trail of stars.

“And to think she probably didn’t even do this on purpose,” he muttered, swinging his tails back and forth.

He stood there for a while, just rubbing his sleeves and stimming with his new coat, before running off to ask Sophie to make another ten of these.


End file.
